I didn’t feel the urge to cry about her. It felt out of place. She was my best friend, after all. Yet I just stared on, into Alice’s wooden bed, her final resting place. I didn’t know what to feel, or even how to at all. I knew just stared on, a numb mask covering my face. My mother stood beside me, showing a much more obvious expression of pain and regret than I could. I just forgot.